


A Name is Something You Are Given

by probablynotadalek



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: BAMF Natasha Romanov, Friendship, Gen, Names, Natasha-centric, Past Torture
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-16
Updated: 2017-12-07
Packaged: 2018-04-14 10:27:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 16,962
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4561095
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/probablynotadalek/pseuds/probablynotadalek
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Throughout her life, people have given her names. The Avengers are no different. </p><p>She has been given a thousand names. Each one is her, each one has power, and each one has a story.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Natasha

**Author's Note:**

> AKA Natasha makes friends.
> 
> There is no order to these stories, so don't look for one.

“You’re expected at the Maria Stark Foundation Fundraiser this afternoon.” 

“I’ll be there,” Tony said, his face buried in a mound of various parts. He looked up through the hologram surrounding the project at the woman who had come through the the door. "Natasha."

Natasha sighed. "I told you," she walked across the room and through the schematics to where he was seated. "Until we figure out who is trying to kill you, I'm back to being Natalie Rushman." 

"Of course, Natalie." He returned to his work. "Natalie, my personal assistant. My personal assistant who happens to actually be an assassin. An assassin named Natasha." He picked up a lump of metal and carried it to another table. “A thing you should know about me, Natasha,” He said, picking up a welding torch and putting on visor. “Is that people are generally trying to kill me. So if you plan on staying here until every single one of those threats is gone, you’re going to be here awhile.” 

“That may have been your policy before,” Natasha said, pausing as sparks flew from the welding torch. “But you are on SHIELD registers now, and we tend to take death threats seriously.”

“It’s an abnormal day if I don’t get death threats.”

“Is is normal that these death threats result in dangerous alien tech exploding in your office?”

“I’ll admit, that’s a little different.” Sparks flew again as Natasha stepped closer. “But this isn’t something SHIELD needs to send guard dogs about. Natasha.”

“Barton and I have been assigned to protect you, whether you like it or not.” She began walking out the glass door of the workshop. “So I’m going to make sure you go where you’re supposed to be, and you will call me Natalie.”

***

Natasha managed a smile. “Right this way, Mr. Stark.”

“Please, Natalie,” He looked over his sunglasses at her. “I understand how a red carpet works.” He began to walk through the crowds of flashing cameras and screaming fans, Natasha following behind him. 

“Now that the Battle of New York has finished, are the Avengers going to stay together?” One asked.

“I love you Iron Man!” someone screamed. 

Tony responded to each with a smile and a wave. A few times he stopped to sign autographs and shake hands. Natasha was grateful to be ignored, watching Tony to make sure no one placed anything on him. Eventually, they made it to the door, where the bouncer didn’t give a second glance before stepping aside to let them through.

The room itself was too full to keep track of anyone, and Natasha found herself feeling grateful that Clint was with her. 

_“Look who finally showed up.”_ Clint said over the coms the two agents had set up. _“How’s being Starks PA again?”_

“Peachy.” She adjusted the bluetooth in her ear that kept her from looking like she was talking to herself. “You see us?” 

_“Yes.”_ He responded. _“Bet you can’t spot me.”_

Natasha looked up, searching the corners of the ceiling until she saw him sitting on a small ledge where the lights shown toward the ceiling, completely illuminating him and his bow. “You’re lucky people never look up.”

 _“Come on, Nat, this is a great hiding space. Look,”_ He moved to lay down, disappearing behind the ledge. _“Now you can’t see me.”_

Natasha smiled and shook her head. “See anything interesting?”

Clint moved to sit again. _“One guy has eaten 43 mini sausages in the last half hour, and I think red dress by the bar is trying to get a free drink from everyone in the room. So far fifteen men and four women have gone for it.”_

“Anything useful?”

_“The creepy doll painting on auction is suspicious.”_

She rolled her eyes. “Thanks, Clint.” She looked back at the crowd, realizing she’d lost Tony. “Shit. You got eyes on Stark?”

 _“Find a guy in a suit in a room full of guys in suits. Hardest game of Where’s Waldo ever. Good thing Tony’s got a distinct walk.”_ He paused a second. _“Over by the bar. He’s talking to red dress, I smell another victory coming up very quickly, and oh! There it is, he’s buying her a drink.”_

Natasha made it to the two as the bartender handed them their drinks. “I’m sorry, ma’am, but I need to talk to Mr. Stark.” she smiled, grabbing his arm and pulling him away from the bar. 

“What are you doing?” He objected. “I was trying to enjoy my night.”

“You need to stay in my sight.” 

He brushed her off as he reached out to grab a glass of something bubbly from a passing waiter. “Calm down, Natalie. Nothing’s going to happen.”

 _“He just jinxed it.”_ Clint said so harshly Natasha flinched. _“Dude just jinxed it, shit, I’m going to have to do my job.”_

“You need to start taking this seriously-”

Tony took a drink from the glass and wrinkled his nose. “That’s not champagne. Excuse me! Waiter! Why is this not champagne? I demand something alcoholic.” 

_“Watch the waiter, eight o’clock.”_ Clint said frantically. _“There’s something glowing on his tray, glowing is never good, grab it!”_

Natasha spied the waiter he mentioned as Tony kept yelling for alcohol. There was a potato-sized lump of twisted metal and glowing blue sitting on the tray, getting brighter by the second. “Not good.” She whispered, and grabbed it. “Clint, duck.” She said.

The thing burned her hand, and she threw it into the air as quickly as she could. She turned to grab Tony by the collar and pull him to the ground, yelling at everyone in the room to get down and putting her arms up to cover him as the thing exploded in a flash of light and a shockwave that nearly knocked her over. 

People screamed, temporary walls holding paintings fell over, and a chandelier crashed to the ground. As broken pieces of diamond slid toward them, Natasha stood. “Told you.”

***

“Miss Rushman.” Pepper said curtly, walking into the elevator. “Romanov?”

“Rushman, for now.” Natasha said. “Good evening, Miss Potts.”

“Is it? Because I’m missing a very nice bubble bath for this.” The door opened and she stormed out, heels clicking on the tile floors as she approached the chair where Tony was sitting.

“Pepper! How was the bubble bath?”

“What in God’s name were you thinking, you could have been killed!”

“But I wasn’t, Pep, focus on that, I’m not dead-”

“Someday you’re going to have to face the fact that you’re not invincible-”

“I’ll be in the other room.” Natasha said to no one as the two continued arguing. 

“Great job, isn’t it?” Natasha jumped at the sound of Clint’s voice. He was sitting on the white couch facing a full wall window that showed off the New York skyline, holding his bow in one hand and picking up an arrow with the other.

“You know it.” She sat down next to him with a huff. “What are you shooting?”

“The window.” He said, firing another shot that stuck to the glass. “Suction cup arrows.”

“Where did you get suction cup arrows?”

“I sneak in Mars Bars to the labs and in return they make me things.”

“You trade candy for toys?” Natasha shook her head. “SHIELD is full of children.”

“Children with dangerous weapons.” Clint corrected, shooting another arrow directly below the first. 

The argument on the landing stopped.

“What was that?” Tony asked, leaning over the railing. “Hawkeye? How did you get in here?” 

“Air vents.” Clint said plainly as he shot another arrow. 

“Oh, no.” Pepper yelled, grabbing Tony’s shoulder to turn him around. “You are not going to avoid this one.”

“What do you want me to do, Pepper!” 

“Not die! Listen to what Natasha tells you to do and,” She poked him in the chest, causing him to back up to the railing. “Stay. Here.” 

“Okay, I will.”

“Good. Now I’m going to go get some sleep, you should too.” She turned to leave. “We’ve got a press conference about this at eight tomorrow morning. Natasha?”

“Got it.” Natasha gave a thumbs-up. 

“Thank you.” Pepper said as the elevator closed.

***

“I assure you, I have my best people working on finding out where these threats are coming from and eliminating them.” Tony said to a room full of reporters.

“Mr. Stark!” They all yelled, competing until one yelled loud enough to ask a question. “Was the red-headed woman who saved your life last night the same woman who fought alongside you in the Battle of New York?”

“Maybe.” He said, starting to walk through the crowd. “Sorry, folks, that’s all the time we have for today but I’m sure it won’t be long before I see all of you again.” He ignored the continuing onslaught of questions and flashing of cameras as he joined Natasha in the back of the room. 

"Stunning performance." She said as they walked out the door. 

"The only kind I give." Tony said, opening the door of the car for her before following her in.

“Where to, sir?” Happy asked from the driver’s seat.

“I was thinking burgers, maybe that new Chinese place on 7th-”

“The tower.” Natasha interjected and the car started forward. “Thanks, Happy.” 

They drove without making conversation, Tony saying things that didn’t matter and Natasha responding in one word sentences or Happy with phrases that meant the same as the statement they were responding too. Eventually they made it back to the tower and the main room where Clint sat, watching the nearly finished reconstruction on the building.

“Have you moved at all?” Tony asked, walking behind the bar.

“Yep.” Clint shot an arrow at the window, still using the suction cups, which the workers outside seemed used to. “I was watching you guys the whole time.”

“How did you beat us here?”

“Secretly I can fly.” Clint said. “I don’t like to do it much because I actually screech like a bird when I do it,” 

“I’ll be right back, guys, I’ve got a phone call to make.” Natasha smiled and walked into the next room as the two continued talking. She shut the door and pulled out her phone, dialing a few numbers. The phone rang twice before it was picked up.

“Hello?”

“Hey, Jane.” Natasha said. “How’s SHIELD treating you?”

“Oh, you know.” Jane responded, exhaustion clear in her voice. “Plenty of aliens, not the one I’m looking for. But hey, at least the pay’s consistent.” She paused a moment. “I suppose you want to know about the bombs?”

“Not that I don’t love talking to you, but yes. Anything new?”

“Our initial thoughts were right, they’re Chitauri.”

“What are aliens doing trying to kill Tony Stark?”

“I don’t think they are. When the Chitauri attacked, they left behind a lot of weird alien crap. Most of my job here is dealing with the side effects of idiots trying to use it. Some of it spreads disease, some of it electrocutes people, and some just explodes.”

“So you think someone is trying to kill Stark using alien tech.”

“Exactly.”

“Any ideas on who?”

“Don’t ask me, that’s your job.”

“Alright.” Natasha said. “Time to do that, then. Thanks, Jane.”

“Anytime, Tasha. Don’t be a stranger.”

“I’ll call you soon.” Natasha said, hanging up the phone and walking into the main room, where Clint and Tony were now arguing over who had rights to the remote. “I’ve got good news, and I’ve got bad news.”

“Bad news first.” Tony said from the couch next to Clint.

“Someone is trying to kill you using alien technology.”

“We knew that.” Clint said. “What’s the good news?”

“It’s not aliens.”

“Oh good.” Tony said, “Because I think I’ve had alien encounters to last the rest of my life.”

“There’s still the matter of someone trying to kill you.”

“Whoever it is, they’re not going to-”

“No!” Clint yelled. “Do not say anything, you jinxed it last time, and I will not let you do it again!”

“Fine, fine. I’m not saying it.”

***

The three spent the day trying not to kill each other and piece together the clues as to who was trying to kill Tony. They came up with a list longer than Natasha’s arm before deciding to call it a night.

Natasha had ended up sleeping in the room next to Tony’s with Clint across the hallway. Sleeping wasn’t the right word, considering she was staring at the wall going over all of the information she had in her head. She never slept much on missions anyway. 

“Barton, if you take one step closer I swear I will-” She heard from Tony’s room, cut off by something shattering. “Not Barton!”

She was on her feet in a flash. She grabbed her gun from the bedside table and rushed into the next room just in time to see Tony’s attacker shoot one of the Chitauri guns at the bed, causing down feathers to fly across the room.

“Stark!” She yelled, and suddenly the attacker’s attention was on her. 

“Hello, Natalie,” the woman sneered. “Stark’s newest whore.” She leveled her weapon at Natasha.

Natasha aimed her own gun, but the woman fired first, bright blue light sailing over Natasha’s shoulder and sending her to the ground.

“Stark!” The woman spat. “Are you going to let someone else die because you refuse to fight?”

Natasha saw him stand from behind the bed, relieved that he wasn’t dead but knowing that he would be soon. “What do you want?” He asked her. “Money, fame, revenge? Just what is your problem with me?”

“You gave up!” The woman yelled. “You left the military and because of it people are dying!”

“It’s war. People would have died with or without my help.”

“She wouldn’t have!” She fired another shot. “But you will.”

Natasha saw her chance. While the woman was turned, she fired three shots into her back. The bullets didn’t seem to do anything but annoy her.

“Tony, get out of here!”

“No, I’m not leaving.”

“Go!” It was on order, not a request ,and he obeyed, dodging the woman’s shots as he left.

She tried to follow him out, but Natasha stepped in front of the door. “So you’re going to die for him?”

“That’s not the plan.” Natasha stepped forward, wrapping her hands around the weapon and twisting, trying to get the woman to release. It fired a few times while Natasha tried to keep it aimed away from her. The woman screamed and Natasha brought her legs up to wrap them around the woman’s neck and bring her to the ground. She struggled for a while longer before shoving Natasha off of her and standing.

“Idiot.” The woman said, and this time Natasha had no weapon. All she could do was stare down the end of the weapon.

Natasha closed her eyes as another flash of blue light blinded her. When she opened them, she saw Tony in the Iron Man armor fire another blast at the woman slumped against the wall. 

“No one is going to die for me.”

Tony shot her a few more times and the weapon fell from her arm.

***

She was unconscious and tied up in the main room when Clint came stumbling out of his room.

“What happened to you guys?”

“Seriously, Barton, you wake up now? Didn’t you hear any of that?”

“No.” Clint yawned. “I don’t tend to keep my hearing aids in while I’m sleeping.” 

“I called Sitwell.” Natasha said before Tony could respond. It was too early for an argument. "He's sending someone by to pick her up. Hopefully all she needs it some time away from the alien tech to detox."

"And what about the fact that she tried to kill me?" Tony asked. 

"The anger might have been a side effect of contact with alien material. If so, we're not going to charge her."

"Seriously?" Tony asked as the elevator opened. Instead of Agent Sitwell coming in like Natasha had expected, Pepper can charging through.

"Again. In the middle of the night, for the third time this week, I get a call saying you almost died." Pepper crossed her arms. "Did anyone get hurt?"

"No, we're fine. And look, we caught her!" Tony gestured to the limp figure on the couch. "So no more problem."

***

"How much do they pay you?" Pepper asked. “SHIELD, I mean.”

“Not enough.” Natasha said, head resting in one hand and a cup of coffee in the other. The woman had been taken a few hours earlier and Natasha still hadn’t slept.

“You could come work for Stark Industries. Take on a full-time job as Tony’s personal assistant and occasional bodyguard. The pay would be better.”

“Not for all the money in the world.”

“I understand.” Pepper said, sitting down next to her. “Honestly, I’m not sure why I still work here.”

“You care about Tony?”

“Nah,” She teased. “It’s probably the free stuff.”

They sat for a while in comfortable silence until Tony and Clint came barging in. Natasha stood and grabbed her bag. “Ready to go?”

“Yep.” Clint said, holding up a bag of his own.

“I cannot believe that you fit in the tower’s air vents.”

“I can’t believe that you can’t believe it.”

“Am I going to have to start installing security in the vents?” Tony said. 

“Hopefully not.” Clint pressed the button on the elevator. “Cuz then how would I get in to save your sorry ass?”

“I’ve been thinking about that.” Tony’s face became more seriously as he said it. “Since the Battle of New York. The world is going to need the Avengers again someday, right? And it would be a lot easier to mobilize if we all lived in the same building, and the tower’s big enough, I was going to rename it anyway-”

“Get to the point, Stark.” Clint said as the elevator opened. 

“How would you all like to start living here?”

Natasha looked at Clint. “Not the worst place to live.” She said.

“We’ll do it.” Clint walked into the elevator. “So long as we don't have to keep saving your life.”

“And Stark?” Natasha said. “Nice job.”

“You too, Natasha.”


	2. Widow

“All we need you to do is kill this man, Imari Odili,” Maria Hill slid a picture across the table, an old man with dark skin and grey hair and a jawline too wide for his mouth. “And the entire regime will come toppling down. Then we let the Peacekeepers take over.”

“With SHIELD agents among them, right?” Natasha asked, picking up the picture and folding it before putting it in her pocket.

Hill ignored her question. “He’ll be surrounded by guards no matter where he is, with the best security the modern day has to offer. The kind of thing even Fury doesn’t have his hands on yet.”

“Sounds easy enough. I’ll take Barton, we’ll be in and out, 18 hours if traffic’s bad.” 

“Agent Barton has been given some time off.” 

“Sitwell then, not ideal, but he-”

“You will be accompanied by Captain Rogers.”

“Rogers?” Natasha sat up, placing her hands on the table. “This kind of op requires long range, discrete, Barton, or Mendez, Rogers fights up close, bloody, with a goddamned shield. I could do a better job if you sent me alone instead of standing by this insurance policy-”

“Romanov!” Natasha sat back down at Maria’s yell. “Fury has determined that you and Rogers will be the most beneficial team to send. Are you going to suck it up and work with him?”

Natasha sighed. “Yes ma’am.” 

“Good. He’s being briefed by Agent Sitwell but should be out shortly. He’ll meet you in the hangar.”

“Yes ma’am.” She stood to leave.

“And Natasha?” She stopped at the door. “Go easy on him. A month ago we all thought he was dead.” 

_You should give him some time, then._ She thought as she left the room, headed for the armory. At least she could have a few moments alone before having to spend a day in close quarters with Captain America.

“Widow!” She heard from behind her.

“Fuck.” She whispered before turning around to face him, a smile placed across her face. “Hello, Cap.”

“Please. Call me Steve.”

“Alright, Steve.” She turned around and continued walking, not dropping the smile that was already exhausting to keep up. “Is this your first op?”

“Not counting New York?” He started to walk with her, shortening his stride to match hers. “First one since World War Two.” 

_Great,_ Natasha thought, _I’m going to have to train him._

“Doesn’t feel like long ago, but, time flies when you’re frozen in ice.” 

She heard the hints of pain in what she could only assume was supposed to be a joke. “This’ll be fun then.” She said, hoping he didn’t hear the sarcasm in her voice.

“Yeah.” They fell into an awkward silence as they continued toward the armory.

***

The plan was simple. The pilots, Agents Weber and Cohen, would drop them Natasha and Steve outside of Luanda, Angola, they’d kill the target, and in 24 hours the Agents would be at the safehouse to pick them up.

“You two all buckled up?” Weber said from the cockpit.

“Yes, ma’am.” Steve said, to which Natasha rolled her eyes. 

“Yeah, Julia, we’re good to go.” 

“You’re coming to see the new Star Trek movie with us, right?”

“You do realize it’s not until next year.”

“Well yes, but we’re already making plans. Tickets go on sale in a month, we’ve got to be ready.”

“Julia!” Cohen yelled. “I can’t get this plane off the ground myself.”

“Not my fault you never learned, Eric.” 

“Not all of us have spent ten years flying airplanes.”

Julia shook her head. “It’s always something with this one.” She turned and closed the cockpit door, leaving Steve and Natasha to listen to the faint murmur of their conversation.

“Well that was,” Steve paused, searching for the word. “Informal.”

“What were you expecting? Silent professionalism?” Natasha said. “We can’t all be-” She stopped herself from saying Coulson. “Nick Fury.”

“No, I just wasn’t expecting,” He stopped. “Star Trek, really?”

“Yeah. You seen it?”

“It’s on the list.” He pulled out a little black notebook. “Everything I need to catch up on.” 

“Huh.” She said. Anything else she wouldn’t have told him was lost to the intercom.

 _“Sorry about that, Jules here doesn’t know when to shut up.”_

“Oh, like this is my fault?” Agent Weber objected, loud enough that they could hear in through the closed door. 

He ignored her. _“Anyway, I hope you’re all buckled up because we’re taking off now.”_

The intercom beeped off and the plane’s engines roared. Slowly, the plane lifted off the ground.

It was only a few minutes before Julia’s voice came over the intercom. _“Alright, you can unbuckle now.”_

“Good.” Natasha unbuckled quickly and stretched her legs. “We’ve got work to do.” She walked to the backpack she had packed (purple, so I can find you, Clint had said) and pulled out a map of the area and a picture of the target. “Odili’s son will be attending a party tonight, so I’ll go in and convince him to take me home.”

“So you’re going to, you know,” Steve stumbled through the words. “Go to bed?”

“Have sex with him?” Natasha asked. “No. But he won’t know that. Once I’m in, I’ll place a device that should shut down the security systems. When they go out, I’ll find Odili and you can come in for cover. Got it?”

“Yeah, I guess, it’s just-”

“Great.” She pointed to the map. “The party should be here, and you can wait for us in this building here,” she pointed to a building marked PUBLIC. “And once I give you the signal, you’ll come in through here,” she pointed to a corner of the compound she had circled as being weaker than the rest. “And I’ll meet up with you there. Make sense?”

“Yeah, but-”

“Perfect. Now, what fighting styles do you know?”

“I, um,” Steve stammered. “I don’t know.”

“Who taught you how to fight?”

“No one.” he said. “When I was little no one thought I should be fighting and then the army assumed I knew and I kind of just make it up as I go along.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” Natasha sighed. “Fine, I’ll adapt.” She pulled a handle in the ceiling that lowered a hammock. “I suggest you get some sleep now, it’s going to be a long day once we land.” 

The plan was simple enough.

***

The problem with simple plans was that they tended to go horribly wrong very quickly. Natasha had been in the room for less than fifteen minutes before she realized that she would need another plan.

_"Widow,"_ Steve said over the communicator she was regretting giving him. _"Widow, report."_

She pulled a phone out of her purse and held it to her ear. "Listen, darling, taking a break only works if you stop talking to me."

_"We're not taking a break, are we?"_

Natasha struggled to maintain her fake smile. "Are you at least using a phone or are you just talking to yourself?"

 _"Oh."_ He said, _"We're good now. How are things on your end?"_

"Not good.” She said, watching Odili’s son, Abi, out of the corner of her eye. “He doesn’t seem into me.” She shook her head. “Clint would have loved to hear that.”

_“Okay, so if he’s not biting, what do we do?”_

“Gather more information. We adapt.” She watched Abi talking to another man as he leaned against the bar, smiled, and made a gesture at the bartender to bring them some drinks. Slowly, everything clicked together. “Shit.”

_“What?”_

“He’s gay.” She buried her face in her hands and groaned. “Time to tap in, Rogers.”

***

Natasha sat in a hotel room alone, computer on her lap that allowed her to hear and see everything Steve did. She was lucky Clint was always so utterly unprepared, or else she wouldn’t have thought to pack everything she needed to direct Steve through what she had done a thousand times.

“Relax, and smile.” She said, seeing Steve adjusting his suit in the mirror through the camera she had pinned to his jacket. “Not like that. A small smile. Have you ever flirted before?”

_“Not really.”_

Natasha sighed. “Just walk up to him and start talking.”

_“Talking about what?”_

“Start a conversation. Ask him if he’s enjoying the party.”

_“And then what?”_

“Respond?” It wasn’t really a question but it sounded like one anyway. “I’ll help you through it.” 

Steve nodded and headed into the crowded front room of the building. He spotted Abi still at the bar. 

_“I can’t do this.”_

“Yes you can, and you will.”

_“There has to be another way.”_

“I’m all ears.” She sat back and crossed her arms. “Go, Rogers.”

Eventually he made it across the room, leaning forward on the bar next to Abi.

 _“Enjoying the party?”_ Steve said with a surprising amount of confidence. 

_“To be honest, it’s a little bland.”_

“Good.” Natasha said. “Now say, ‘Do you want to make it more interesting.’”

 _“Do you want to make it more interesting?”_ Steve echoed.

_“You have something in mind?”_

“Maybe just start with a drink, see where it goes,” Natasha said. “Unless you want to move a little faster.”

Steve echoed her words.

 _“I like what you think. Bartender!”_ Natasha watched as Abi ordered two drinks, prepared and brought to them in a matter of seconds. Abi grabbed his glass but Steve didn’t move. 

“Pick it up, Rogers.” 

He waited another second and grabbed the glass.

 _“To a more exciting evening.”_ Abi said.

 _“That’s the hope.”_ Steve repeated what Natasha said as they clinked glasses and took a drink. 

Steve must have made a face because Abi raised his eyebrows. _“Something wrong?”_

“It’s just,” Steve paused, but Natasha offered no help. _“Been awhile since I’ve had a good drink.”_

“Like it?”

“Yeah.” Steve took another drink. 

Natasha guided Steve through the next three drinks, though by the last he seemed to be getting the hang of it. He was a quick learner. She liked that. 

_“What do you say we take this somewhere else?”_ Abi said, leaning a little closer to Steve so that all Natasha could see was the inside of his nose.

“Finally,” Natasha said, falling backward onto the bed she was sitting on. 

“Yours.” She heard Steve say, and smiled. He said it so it might have been a question, but didn’t leave a lot of room for interpretation.

The two men hopped in a limousine and Natasha packed up to follow them. 

_“Widow.”_ She heard as she walked through the dark streets, one hand on the strap of her backpack and the other hovering over her gun.

“I thought I said not to talk to me directly.”

 _“I know, but he’s drunk and,”_ Steve paused. _“Touchy.”_

Natasha sighed. _“If It makes you uncomfortable, move his hands to your shoulders.”_ She looked over her shoulder, checking for anyone following her. _“He’s going to lean in closer, but you distract him from there.”_

She ignored the faint whispers of flirtations and deflections over the comms as she kept walking, looking over her shoulder as she did.

 _“Okay, we’re inside.”_

“Great. Now poison him.” 

_“How?”_

“I don’t know. You figure it out, just get him to take it.”

_“Any suggestions?”_

Natasha closed her eyes for a second. “Is there a bar nearby.”

Steve paused. _“Yes.”_

“Offer to make him a drink.”

_“I think he’s had enough tonight.”_

“Which means he’ll gladly take another, and you can poison it.” 

_“Right.”_ Steve said. _“This isn’t going to kill him is it?”_

“No,” Natasha said, and then, quieter, “Not unless he drinks all of it.”

_“What?”_

“Nothing.” Natasha said quickly. “Just get it done, okay?”

The chatter on the comms went back to mumbling. Natasha looked over her shoulders again at a figure in a black coat, confirming what’d she’d been fearing. There was someone following her. 

Natasha ducked around a corner until she was out of view of the sidewalk. She stood, fists raised, waiting for the figure follow her around the corner.

Instead, the figure (a woman, Natasha saw as she walked under the streetlight) walked past. Maybe she was getting a little paranoid.

 _“I did it.”_ Steve said. _“I got him to drink it, and now he’s out cold.”_

“Don’t act so surprised.” Natasha said, stepping out of the alley and walking down the road again. “Get the security systems shut down. I’m almost there.”

_“On it.”_

Natasha readjusted the straps across her shoulders. The bag was heavier than it normally was, carrying the computer and cables and various other supplies along with Steve’s shield. She considered it a minor miracle that she’d gotten it in there in the first place. 

Finally, she made it to the mansion. She sat down on a bench across the street and pulled out her phone, pretending to make a call. “Alright, I’m outside. How’s it going?”

_“I, um, I can’t find a panel.”_

“It should be a little white box on the wall. Check by the front door.”

_“I did.”_

“The room closest to it?”

_“I did.”_

“The kitchen?”

_“Done. And don’t say living room, because I’m standing in it.”_

“Okay, just,” She paused a moment. “Check every room.” 

_“I’ll do that.”_ Steve said, _“Because that’s a really efficient way to get this done.”_

“I wish there were another option, but if you don’t get those shut down, even if you did manage to complete the mission, you’d never get out.”

Steve didn’t respond, so Natasha pulled out her phone and sent a few texts to Clint, messages he would never receive.

_the old man is killing me_

_are you seriously taking time off?_

_since when did you take time off_

_you’re with coulson arent you_

_sorry_

_not coulson_

_you better not be in canada_

_“I found it.”_ Steve said. _“I found the panel.”_

“Did you put the scrambler on it?”

_“Yeah, it’s starting.”_

___Natasha turned her attention back to the phone for only a second before an alarm blared from the building. She stood up instantly, taking off across the street and almost being hit by a car in the process._ _ _

___“What happened?”_ _ _

_“This is Odili’s room.”_ Steve said so softly she could barely hear him over the noise. _“The panel was in Odili’s room, and he’s here, and we’re making eye contact.”_

___“So kill him!”_ _ _

_“He’s pointing a gun at me!”_

___“Make it work! I’ll try to find a way in.” She took a step back from the gate which was no doubt electrified as soon as the alarm started. If only she had a car, she could-_ _ _

___No, she had something better. Natasha stepped into the empty street and adjusted the backpack. She took a breath to ready herself before she ran forward, jumping before she hit the wall. She bounced off of it with one foot, hit the streetlight next to it with her other, and then she was over the wall, crouching as she checked the area. All of the guards were running inside the building with weapons drawn and paid no attention to her as she stood._ _ _

___“What floor are you on?” Natasha said, smoothing down the shirt she was wearing. glad she had exchanged the dress and heels she had worn at the party for more comfortable clothing._ _ _

_“Second, a bit to the right of the main door.”_

___Natasha looked up at the second row of windows. “Lights on?”_ _ _

_“Lights on.”_

___Natasha turned her attention to the guards still filing in through the door. She could probably fight her way through them, but she really didn’t want to. Climbing up to the second story window seemed much easier._ _ _

___She had barely made it through the window when there was a hand on her arm, pulling her into the room. “Eu vou mat-”_ _ _

___Natasha was hit with a spray of water as a glass vase shattered against the face of the woman who had been holding a gun to her head._ _ _

___“About time you showed up.” Steve said, hitting another of the guards across the face with the flowers that had been in the vase a second earlier. A few petals floated to the ground._ _ _

___“Would have been here faster, but someone sounded the alarm.” She said. Natasha ducked behind the bed, rifled through her bag, and pulled out the shield. She held it up to deflect the bullets being fired at her while she ran over to where Steve was beating another guard with the now petalless flowers. “I like your choice in weapons, but I think you might want this.” She handed it over._ _ _

___“Thanks.” Steve dropped the flowers and took the shield, slamming it into the face of another guard who had been running toward them._ _ _

___“Did you kill Odili?”_ _ _

___“No, I was a little busy. He’s in the closet.”_ _ _

___Natasha sighed. “If only I had a gun.”_ _ _

___Steve hit another guard with the shield and reached his hand down, coming back up with a pistol. “Here you go.”_ _ _

___“Thanks.” She shot one guard before running to the closet and throwing open the door. She walked inside, gun raised. Someone shouted something in Portuguese and charged out of a row of suits and she didn’t waste a second in firing a bullet that sent him falling to the ground. She rolled the body over to check. It was Odili._ _ _

___Natasha ran out of the closet. “Alright, Rogers, let’s go.”_ _ _

___He turned to her. “Window?”_ _ _

___“Window.” She ran to it as more guards filed into the room and started shooting at them. She started to open the window._ _ _

___“We don’t have time for that.” Steve said, running toward her. He grabbed her shoulder and pulled her into him, using the shield to bash through the glass and put a barrier between them and the ground._ _ _

___Natasha got up quickly and turned to Steve. “Are you okay?”_ _ _

___“Yeah, I do that all the time.” He said, wincing. He brushed the glass shards off of his suit (which was missing the jacket and torn down one sleeve) as she ran over to the line of black cars in the driveway. “Are you going to hotwire a car?”_ _ _

___“Don’t be ridiculous.” She said, getting into the driver’s side of the car. “Hotwiring takes too long. I’m going to use the omnikey.”_ _ _

___“The omnikey?”_ _ _

___“Newest SHIELD tech. Can match any lock.” She turned the key a few times in the lock as Steve climbed into the passenger side._ _ _

___“Uh, Widow? They’re coming out the door now.”_ _ _

___A second later the back window was shattered in a hail of bullets that blew holes in the seats as the car went shooting forward._ _ _

___“What about the-” Steve said as Natasha crashed the car through the gate. “That works.”_ _ _

___Natasha drove through the mostly empty streets without turning the lights on to make it harder to see them. She swerved left, then right, two lefts._ _ _

___“Are they behind us?”_ _ _

___Steve checked over his shoulder. “Not yet.”_ _ _

___“Perfect. Tuck and roll, Rogers!”_ _ _

___“What?”_ _ _

___She didn’t give an explanation as she reached over him and threw open the door. She waited until the car passed by an alley to push him out and jump after him. She rolled on the stone street and landed nicely, grabbing Steve’s shoulder to pull him against the wall as the guards followed the car that was still speeding down the street._ _ _

___“Up there. The safe house.” She pointed to a building next to her and he followed her up the stairs and into the room._ _ _

___“Nice place.” He said, staring at the dusty shelf and the worn-out couch._ _ _

___“Take a seat. We’ll be waiting here for the next-” She checked her watch. “Four hours. You want to play Uno?”_ _ _

___“Play what?”_ _ _

___Natasha pulled the worn out deck Clint had picked up in New Orleans from her backpack. “I’ll teach you.”___

 _ _ _***___

 _ _ _The debrief had been uneventful, comprising mostly of Natasha and Steve taking turns explaining what happened and Fury commenting on how they could have done better while Hill told them they’d done fine. Natasha stayed back after everyone but Hill had left._ _ _

___“Do you need something, Romanov?”_ _ _

___Natasha took a breath. “I’d like Rogers to replace Coulson as my secondary.”_ _ _

___Hill looked her over once. “It’s already done.”_ _ _

___“You knew?”_ _ _

___“I guessed. I just guessed correctly.” Hill said. “Now don’t you have some cleanup to do? Unless of course you’d like to be on Stark detail.”_ _ _

___“I was just going.” Natasha turned and left, smiling._ _ _


	3. Romanov

The man in the suit was not happy to see her. Maybe it wasn’t her he wasn’t happy to see, considering how he yelled at the archer. But he was not happy, and she could feel the anger rising in the room.

“You can’t just go around picking up strays, Barton.” The man in the suit said. “Especially not dangerous KGB assassins.”

“She’s done some bad stuff, and she knows that.” The archer said. Clint Barton, she remembered. Hawkeye. “And she wants to make up for it. I can empathize.”

The man in the suit only sighed and turned to her. “I’m Agent Coulson.” He said, offering a hand for her to shake. She didn’t, and eventually he lowered it. “We’ll go ahead and get started on your entrance paperwork. Barton?”

“Yes, sir?”

“Stay quiet.”

The archer opened his mouth to say something, but closed it again quickly. “Yes, sir.” 

Coulson sat at a table in the corner and gestured for her to do the same. She didn’t. He pulled out a pen and a stack of papers. “Name?”

“It’s Emily Stokes.”

“No it isn’t.”

“Ali-”

“No.”

“Natal-” She stopped herself. If the archer was telling the truth, this was her chance to start over and be whoever she wanted to be and she couldn’t ruin it. 

“Natasha.” Barton said from the corner. Natasha. The lie she had told him because she hadn’t thought she could trust him with Natalia. “It’s Natasha, right?”

She nodded. “Romanov.” It was a lie, but she had always told lies and this one felt right somehow. 

“Romanov.” She watched out of the corner of her eye as Coulson wrote the name. “Date of birth?”

“I-” She hung her head. “I don’t know.” She prepared for whatever he would say to her. 

“Year?”

The lack of both anger and disappointment in his voice caught her off guard. “I don’t know.”

“Okay.” Coulson folded his hands and looked at her. “Context clues. What’s the first thing you remember?”

She closed her eyes, falling back to the painful memories she had worked so hard to keep. “Yelling.” she said. “Fire. Someone telling us that Nazis had invaded Stalingrad, someone else saying it was going to be okay and then-” She paused. “The Red Room.”

“Are you sure?” Barton asked and she nodded. “Nazis and Stalingrad? That had to have been 1942. And if you remember that…” He went silent, a look of wonder and confusion on his face. 

The room was filled with only the sound of Coulson writing for a few minutes before he spoke. “You will be spending the next few days taking physical and mental exams before we can even begin to clear you for the field.” He stood up, evened out his papers, and started walking to the door. “But tonight, try and get some sleep.”

***

The physical the following morning consisted of Coulson watching her and taking notes while she did a couple of exercises in the rec room for random intervals. She had counted. 132 push-ups, 176 crunches, 49 pull-ups, and a plank for 2 minutes and 43 seconds. Even the breaks in between seemed random, giving her just enough time to feel normal again before he moved her on to the next.

Coulson stood and led her to the outdoor track. A few other agents were running laps. Coulson said nothing, just gestured at the track, and Natasha took off running. 

She was three laps in and had lapped four agents before Barton walked across the track and sat on the bleachers next to Coulson. Barton waved at her as she took another lap and she overheard him and Coulson talking. 

“Fury’s pissed.” Clint said.

“When isn’t he?” And then she was too far away to hear. 

Four laps later, Coulson waved at her to stop.

Barton handed her the water bottle he had found that morning in a forgotten corner of the third floor break room. “If you keep running like that, the other agents will talk.”

“Isn’t that the point?” She said as she took the bottle because she knew from the 48 hours spent with him since they’d decided against killing each other that that was how she was supposed to respond. She wasn’t sure yet if that was what she wanted to say. 

“Go get lunch.” Coulson said. “And a shower. You have a mental aptitude test in two hours.”

***

The desk they had seated her at contained a computer monitor and a keyboard surrounded on three sides by dividers the same light wooden color as the desk. The room was filled with 30 of these computers, but only a handful of them were occupied. 

The test Coulson had given her seemed inconsistent at best. The questions ranged anywhere from favorite colors to memorizing shapes to the president of Switzerland in 1960. It was Max Petitpierre, but she couldn’t understand why that was relevant information. 

The test concluded with a short-answer about the best way to wear a tie if the wearer wanted to assert dominance but “in a chill sort of way, you know?”. She debated between a few before settling on Balthus and clicking the ‘Submit’ button at the bottom.

“Congrats!” said the next page. “You’ve finished the test. Would you like to see your results?” She clicked yes and was met with a video of chickens pecking at a camera.

“Какого черта?”

Barton’s head appeared over the divider in front of her. “Did you finish?” He leaned over the computer to get a better look at the screen. “I’m jealous.” He said and looked back up at her. “I got a dancing bear, and as great as that was, this is better.”

Clint ducked down so he could walk around the desks to join her while Coulson walked up behind her. He wrote something on a piece of paper and started to walk away. 

"Sir?" She asked. 

“Yes, Romanov?” He said as he walked.

“What do the results mean?”

He wrote something else down on the paper and kept walking. “Stay with Barton. I’ll see you both at dinner.”

***

“Hey, gorgeous.” Natasha turned to face the speaker as he whistled. He and the three guys with him smirked at her in a way that was almost predatory. 

“Hello, boys.” She responded with an innocent smile and a small wave as she sat down at the plastic tables with Clint and Coulson. They laughed and whistled more as they walked away. Natasha turned back toward her tray of food and instantly her smile fell. 

“You know, you don’t have to smile at them.” Coulson said as the men walked out of sight. “You can fight back.”

***

“Hello!” The doctor said, overly cheerful for it being seven in the morning. The cup of coffee in her hand was no doubt the reason for it. “I’m Dr. Patton.” She shut the door to the small room behind her. “Are you okay with Clint and Phil staying in here?” She nodded. “Alright, what should I call you?” 

“Natasha.” She responded. The name was getting easier to say, starting to feel more natural. 

“Okay, Natasha. We’re going to do a simple physical here, check your breathing, ears, eyes, throat, and then we’ll take a vial for your blood test.”

Dr. Patton didn’t try to have any more conversation with her than telling her when to breathe or open her mouth, and she was grateful. Eventually the doctor stood away from the table and stripped off her gloves. “Time for a blood draw!” She said and she was overly cheery again and Natasha was beginning to wonder if that wasn’t just a part of her personality. She grabbed a clipboard and walked out the door. Natasha followed, Barton and Coulson not far behind her. 

The nurse who drew her blood chatted with Dr. Patton about his asshole of a boyfriend and paid her barely any attention at all. She was again grateful.

When they were done, the nurse put the two vials of her blood on a rack in a fridge with a glass door and Dr. Patton told them they could leave.

***

“Dr. Nicole Sanchez.” Clint read the label on the door the three were standing outside of. “I had her once, I think.” 

She understood that he was trying to start a conversation, to combat the silence in the hallway, but she didn’t respond. 

“Nice enough, she was the one who-”

“Barton.” Coulson said. “Knock.”

Clint obliged, and a second later Dr. Sanchez appeared at the door. “Agent Barton, Agent Coulson.” She nodded to each of them. “And this must be Agent Romanov. Please, come in.” Barton started to follow her inside. “Sorry, just her. Standard protocol.” 

“Good luck.” Clint said, stepping aside.

The door shut behind her and suddenly Natasha felt very small. 

“This is simply a standard test of your mental health. You’ll go through these a few times in your time at SHIELD.” Dr. Sanchez said, “Take a seat.”

Natasha obliged, sitting on the worn out leather seat the woman had gestured to. Dr Sanchez took a seat across from her. 

“Shouldn’t you have a clipboard?”

“Did Barton tell you that?” Sanchez smiled. “I’m not going to be taking notes on our session. I’ve found it makes most of my patients less open. All SHIELD needs to know is whether or not you’re cleared for duty, and that’s all they’re going to get. So,” She folded her hands and placed them on her lap. “Why do you want to join SHIELD?”

“Which answer do you want?” Natasha asked. “The safe one, or the hard one?”

“Which one is most true?”

Natasha paused. “I want to do something good for once.” She said. “I want to know that I’m helping.”

***

“Hey, Nat.” Someone said from behind her. She turned around to see Clint leaned against a wall. “Fury’s sending me out, the op should only last a few days, but you’ll be okay, right?” He paused. “Who am I kidding, of course you’ll be okay. Besides, Coulson’s got you.” He turned to leave. “See you soon.” 

She watched him turn a corner and wished she had said something.

***

Coulson had brought her to a room with a few punching bags hanging from the ceiling and a boxing ring in the middle, though whether it was for another test or for stress relief she didn’t know. She had wrapped her hands and was rapidly jabbing at one of the bags when a group of four guys walked into the room with them, the same for guys from the cafeteria a few days earlier. They walked over to the weight training machines and worked for a few minutes before one of them noticed Natasha’s presence. 

“Hey, girly.” One of them said as he stepped toward her. “Whatchu doin here?”

“Training.” She said curtly, not taking her eyes off the bag. 

“What for? The powder puff games?” The other guys laughed. Natasha politely ignored him. “You’re not serious, girly? Cuz listen,” He walked closer to her, close enough that the lingering cigarette smoke was all she could smell. “You ladies, you can be docs, and you can be shrinks, and accountants and assistants and whatever, but field work is just a little too dangerous for you.” He stepped into her personal space and whispered to her. “Leave the protecting people to us men.” 

He placed a hand on her hip and pushed as if he was going to force her to face him. She rolled with it, grabbed his hand and turned. She kneeled and flipped him over her shoulder, not taking her grip off of his hand. She stood placed a foot on his shoulder, putting him in a simple arm lock and twisting slowly.

“Romanov.” Coulson said plainly, from his seat in the corner that no one but her had seen him take. “Let Agent Cobb go.” 

She released his arm and stepped back. He scrambled to his feet and backed away a few feet. “You just lost everything, girly. Good luck getting on the field now, Coulson’ll report this and you’ll never be cleared for duty.”

“Really?” Coulson stood. “Because all I saw was sexual harassment, which I will be reporting.”

***

The second time she went into Dr. Patton’s office, she had Coulson as her only company. The doctor came in, a clipboard tucked in her arm, without the smiles and cheerfulness she had shown a few days before. 

Natasha didn’t need to be told that something was wrong. “What’s the problem?” She asked.

“Nothing with you.” Dr. Patton said, and smiled like she had been trying to tell a joke. “Not that we can tell. It’s your blood results.” She looked at Coulson for a second before looking back at Natasha. “There were some unknown chemicals in your blood. We checked them, and they seem to line up with some of the attempted reproductions of Project Rebirth.” 

“What are you trying to say?” Coulson said sternly. 

“You may be infused with a sort of super soldier serum.” She sucked in a breath. “If you’d allow, I’d like to run a few more tests-”

“No.” Coulson said sternly. “You bury this, as far as you can. Does anyone else know?”

“Just the phlebotomist, but she-”

“You tell her to keep her mouth shut, and then never talk about this again.” 

"I'm not going to lie about-"

"I'm not asking you to lie. I'm asking you to not tell anyone. If anyone asks, you can tell them the truth."

"But no one is going to ask, right? I could lose my job for this, Phil." 

"I know. If it comes down to it, you can say I forced you to lie."

Dr. Patton paused, not dropping her glare at Coulson. "Alright," she turned to look at Natasha. "But only because I know what will happen if I don't." 

"Thank you." Coulson sighed. "I owe you a favor."

"And a pretty big one at that." Dr. Patton smiled, going back to the cheerful doctor who had tried to make Natasha feel at ease. "Now go do whatever it is spies do in their free time."

Natasha got up to follow him out. “What would have happened?” She asked the instant they were out of the door.

“What?”

“If the doctor didn’t cover this up, what would have happened?” 

“Romanov,” Coulson stopped and turned to face her. “If your blood work got out, if people realized you’re different, SHIELD scientists would put you in a lab and take vials of your blood until you ran out. I’ve seen what they do to people they think are special. The last thing you need right now is another cage.”

***

Clint still hadn’t gotten back by the time all of Natasha’s paperwork was in order and ready for review. She and Coulson rode in comfortable silence in the elevator and she realized that she didn’t mind. 

They stood for a second outside the door. Coulson waited behind her as Natasha took a breath and pushed the door open. 

In the center of the room was a half-circle table with three people seated at it. In the middle was a man in all black with an eye patch, to his right an old man in a grey suit, and to his left a young woman with her black hair tied back in a tight bun. 

Natasha noticed Coulson tense as they walked. “What’s wrong?”

“They don’t normally all show up.” He whispered. He stopped in the corner and waved Natasha forward.

“Romanov.” The man with the eyepatch started. “I’m Director Fury. This is Secretary Pierce,” the man in the suit raised a hand quickly. “And Assistant Director Hill.” The woman nodded. “Remember our names: we’re as high up as the chain of command gets.”

“Yes, sir.” 

“We’ve reviewed your file carefully, Miss Romanov.” Hill said. “And we’ve reached a conclusion.” She paused as if she wanted someone to ask what that was, but neither Natasha nor Coulson made any attempt to say anything.

Pierce took advantage of the silence. “We’ve decided you’re not fit for the field.” 

Natasha’s heart dropped, but she stayed still. She should have been prepared for that. Shouldn't have gotten her hopes up. She had been foolish and emotional. Kidded herself into believing they would accept her. 

“There’s something off about you, Romanov.” Fury said. “Given your history, we want to know what that is before we trust you.” 

Foolish. Childish. Emotional. Clouded. Hopeful. Stupid. She spoke softly. “Yes, si-”

“With all due respect, sir.” Coulson interrupted and stepped forward. “That’s bullshit.”

All three people at the table turned to look at him. “Please, Agent Coulson,” Hill said. “Explain.”

“Romanov would be a great asset to SHIELD and an even better agent. Her psych tests, all her evaluations, they prove that she wants to be something better than what she was and you know it. You’re all just afraid.”

Fury folded his hands and leaned forward on his elbows as if his day had finally gotten interesting. “Afraid of what?” 

“That this means you’ll have to admit that Barton wasn’t a fluke. That people can change.”

“Are you making it a habit to give stray villians second chances?” Peirce scolded. 

“Only the ones who deserve it.”

The three exchanged glances. Hill spoke first. “You two can wait outside. We need a few more minutes to deliberate.”

Coulson and Natasha followed orders and stood just outside the door. She wanted to thank him, but she couldn’t, not until it worked. Besides, she wasn’t sure she knew how.

The hall was completely silent when Coulson’s phone rang. Natasha jumped, but he answered the call without acknowledging it. “Agent Coulson. Yes. Again? Yes, ma’am, I know he’s an ass. We’ll be down in ten.” He shut the phone and slipped it in his pocket before turning to Natasha. “We don’t have time for waiting. Barton’s back. And he got himself shot.”


	4. Lady

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I told you I'd finish it eventually.

“Remind me again why we’re on clean-up crew?” Darcy asked loudly as she leaned her chin on her broom.

“You're on probation.” Natasha said, sweeping the dust and rubble into piles. The street cleaners were still out of commission. “They won’t let you in the labs until they think they can trust you.”

“So why are you out here?”

“SHIELD’s been a little slow lately. Apparently alien invasions make criminals rethink their life choices.” Natasha sighed. “And Fury threatened to put me on Stark detail.”

“You have a team of people following Tony Stark everywhere?”

“Monitoring his every move. And we don’t have one. Even if we did, it would be classified.” Natasha smiled. 

“Darcy!” Jane yelled from ahead of them where she was talking with a couple of local volunteers. “If you don’t hurry up and start sweeping I will come over there and beat you with this broom.”

“That would have been really threatening if I were a cat. Or if I thought you were serious.” 

“Okay, I’ll do it.” Natasha said, holding her broom in the air.

“That I believe.”

“Now sweep, Lewis.”

“Yes ma’am, Agent Romanov ma’am.” Darcy gave a mock salute followed by an over exaggerated a sweeping motion. She hit the pile of dust she had been creating and scattered it. “Aww, no. All my hard work.”

“And who’s fault is that?”

Darcy thought for a moment. “Loki’s.” 

“Technically, yes.” 

“Tasha!” Jane yelled. “We’ve got something over here!”

Natasha laid her broom against the underside of a car that had been turned on its side and walked over to where Jane and two of the volunteers were standing around a pile of rubble. One of them was poking at something Chitauri with the metal end of the broom. “What is it?”

“I think it’s an arm.” The woman poking it said as she lifted what looked like a hand and let it drop again. 

“There’s probably more buried under there.” The other volunteer said.

“So let’s dig it out.” Natasha said. 

Darcy joined them, and slowly, carefully, the five revealed a body hidden under the pile. They stepped back to admire their handiwork. 

“It’s in one piece.” Darcy said. Most of the bodies they had found had been damaged, missing arms or legs or with giant holes in their chests, despite the fact that they had all died suddenly when their connection through the portal was lost. “The nerds are going to love us.” 

“What’s this?” The volunteer with the broom stepped forward and pointed at something the creature had clutched in its hand.

“Sara, no!” The other said.

“No, don’t!” Natasha yelled, but then Sara’s broom nudged the object out of the creature’s grip. Natasha had time to grab Darcy and cover her before it hit the ground and exploded, the force of it knocking all five women to the ground and sending the rubble flying with them. She waited for a second after it seemed to be over to get up. Alien technology was still unpredictable. 

“Um… Natasha?” Darcy said from underneath her. “Not that I don’t like this, but if you’re not going to kiss me could you at least stop crushing my lungs?”

Natasha got up wordlessly and offered a hand to Darcy to pull her up. She assessed the damage. The body was no longer whole, scattered to pieces by the explosion. “Well, there go my chances at nerd queen.” Darcy said. Everyone else seemed a little shaken up but alright. They were already working on standing, except for one.

“Sara!” The other volunteer yelled, and Natasha was right behind her as she ran to where Sara laid, unmoving. Blood trickled down her face from a wound on her forehead. “Sara, are you alright?”

Natasha placed her fingers on Sara’s neck to find a pulse. She didn’t have the chance before Sara coughed and opened her eyes. “Bad idea.” She groaned. “Touching dead aliens? Zero out of ten, do not recommend. Can I go home now?”

Natasha didn’t have time to answer before a gust of wind and a sudden rainstorm hit them. She turned around, hoping it wasn’t some idiot with the ability to control the weather. That was the last thing she needed. A beam of light struck the ground and disappeared, leaving an elaborate pattern burned in the road and two people in it’s wake. 

Natasha groaned inwardly. So it was an idiot with the ability to control the weather.

“Thor!” Jane yelled and ran over to the two and immediately threw herself into Thor’s arms. He responded enthusiastically, wrapping his arms around her and kissing her. 

Natasha stood up from Sara, who’s friend was already helping her to stand. She winced, probably had broken her leg. Natasha made note of that as she walked over to the circle. Jane and Thor were still kissing, oblivious to the awkwardness that created among the rest of the group, so Natasha turned to the person, or god, that had arrived with Thor.

“I am Lady Sif.” Sif placed a fist over her heart and bowed quickly. “To whom do I owe the pleasure?” 

“Nat-” She started, but Thor chose that moment to break away from Jane and start talking.

“This is the Lady Natasha!” he said, smiling. 

“Ah, yes,” Sif said. “Thor has spoken highly of you.”

“I’m sure he has.” She forced a smile. “He talked about you as well. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“No, it is all mine. For a human to be so brave is-” Thor shot her a look. “Not that humans can’t be brave, but you are quite noble.”

Darcy stepped into the circle and punched Thor lightly on the arm. “Hey, Thunder. How’s Asgard? Didn’t fall apart without you, did it?”

“No,” Thor smiled, “Asgard is still quite alright.”

“What a shame. It’d be cool if you came home and suddenly Ragnarok was-”

“We do not wish for the end of days,” Sif interrupted.

“Tis merely a joke,” Thor said. “Such jokes are Darcy’s way, and a custom here on Earth.”

“Right, so, what are you doing here?” Natasha said. 

“Helping!” Thor said. “Humans are not equipped to handle such advanced technologies.”

“Thanks, but I think we’ve got it covered. We don’t need your help.”

“But we wouldn’t mind it,” Jane said. She glared at Natasha as if she was threatening to kill the assassin. Natasha resisted rolling her eyes. 

“Fine, fine,” she said. “If you’re helping,” She picked up a broom from the ground and held it out to him. “Sweep.”

***

Sara had been carted off in an ambulance, her friend Nicky had gone with her, and Sif and Thor were getting less in the way than Natasha had expected when Darcy called for assistance.

“Hey, Thunder!” She yelled. When Thor turned, she continued. “I need muscles to come lift something heavy! So bring Sif!” 

Natasha followed them as they walked over to where Jane and Darcy waited. The Asgardians, at the direction of Darcy, grabbed either side of a concrete slab and lifted it off of the twisted remains of a car that had hit a broken apartment building. 

The smell hit Natasha before they had a chance to fully free the car. She rushed to pull Darcy away before the body stuck in the driver's seat came into view. Natasha looked at it as Darcy fought the bile rising in her throat. After weeks in the heat and the humidity, it was impossible to guess age or gender. It was hard enough to tell if it was human. 

Jane walked up behind them and placed a hand on Darcy’s head. She stared at the melting tissues and crumbling bones. When she spoke, it was soft and broken but still sure. “I'll call SHIELD. We’ll, uh. We’ll find out who it is. Get them home. Get them buried.”

Jane walked closer. Darcy raised her head briefly to watch where she was going only to catch sight of the body and double over. Natasha wrapped both of her arms around Darcy to keep her upright and watched Jane reach toward what should have been its face, what would have been if not for the half detached jaw and disintegrating features. 

“NO!” someone above them screamed. A blast hit the rubble in front of Natasha and scattered the dust and dirt until she couldn't see Jane anymore. She couldn't see much of anything. She closed her arms a little tighter, enough to ground herself without Darcy noticing. 

“Don't touch her!” The same voice yelled, closer, almost more of a sob than a scream. “I won't let you take her!”

Natasha heard Jane’s voice, calm and quiet enough that she couldn't make out what she was saying. There was another blast, both voices going quiet, and then nothing.

The silence lasted a few moments before Thor’s voice rang out. “Jane!” When there was no response, he yelled it again. 

Natasha didn't move until the dust cleared. Thor was still yelling, lifting and throwing pieces of rock and rubble. Sif stepped toward him and grabbed his arm. “Thor,” he turned toward her, “This will not help find Jane.” 

Thor stopped and breathed out a ragged breath. His shoulders collapsed. “We will… Find her.” He looked at Sif as if hoping for an answer. 

“Of course.” 

Natasha slowly let go of Darcy and stepped toward him. “We’d better start now. They can’t have gotten far.”

***

“Ya know,” Darcy said, “For ‘can’t have gotten far’, they seem to have gotten awfully far.”

“We’ll find them.” Natasha said. 

“Maybe we headed in the-”

“Darcy.” Natasha nodded toward where Thor was standing, turning over every rock in his reach. “We will find them.” She turned. “Hey, Thor?”

He turned to her, dropping a broken desk. “Lady Natasha?” 

“She’s not here.” 

“So we move to the next building.” Thor said as he started to leave.

“I don’t think so.” Natasha said.

“What?” Sif questioned. “The trail very clearly lead this way.”

“But then it stopped.” Natasha paused. “I think we should head back to the The path led this way.”

“I think we should go back.”

“I have been hunting since before your species developed, I know how to-”

“I know people. Whoever it was, they probably want to stay close to the body.”

Thor stood before Sif could speak. “Lady Natasha is correct. Humans respect their dead similar to the way we do.”

“So we go back to the rotting corpse.” Darcy gave a half-hearted thumbs up. “Yay.”

***

Above the wreckage of the car was what had been an apartment building. Half of the front wall had collapsed onto the street, and Natasha picked her way through this rubble to reach the empty building.

“Oh, great, walk into the creepy broken building that could collapse at any moment, this is a great idea.” Darcy said. 

“You’re welcome to stay out here.”

“And miss out on saving my best friend? Not a chance, Thunder.”

“Great.” Natasha said, standing in front of a hallway in the middle of the building. “Thor, Darcy, you search the left half, Sif and I will take the right.” 

“Roger that.” Darcy gave a small salute and walked off with Thor. 

Natasha turned back to Sif, who stared at her with her eyebrows knit together. 

“What?”

“Your strategy seems.. unwise. Would it not have been a better strategy to pair myself with Darcy, or to keep the group together?.”

“No.” Natasha started to walk to the first doorway, the door half off its hinges and hanging open. Sif followed her. 

Natasha walked in and Sif stood at the doorway to watch the hall. “It would result in a more even balance of strengths.”

“There is more to consider than strength.”

“Such as?” Sif asked once Natasha finished in the room and returned to the door. 

“Compatibility.” They moved to the next room, Sif taking the lead this time. 

“You and I are compatible?”

“Not quite. But Thor and Darcy are getting on my nerves.” Sif stopped and stared at her again. “What now? Have I insulted the honor of Asgard?”

Sif laughed and Natasha felt some of her own discomfort dissipate. There was something comfortingly human about her laugh. “No, I understand. Thor can be something of an acquired taste.” Sif smiled. “He regards you very highly. I was convinced you'd be some sort of god.”

“Sorry to disappoint.” Natasha expected bitterness in her voice, but all that came out was a light-hearted joke. 

“Not at all. You’re remarkably-”

“Human?”

“Normal.”

“You too.” Natasha said. She realized the two had fallen into a sort of rhythm, one checking a room while the other watched, and had already cleared the hallway. 

They had started up the stairs when an explosion rocked the building, followed by a bellowing scream. Natasha looked at Sif and saw something of herself in those eyes as they prepared for a fight. “Guess they found Jane.” Natasha said plainly, and the two ran toward the noise. 

By the time they got there, the fight was already over. Darcy stood over the captor, a man, poking him lightly with a broken metal bar. He appeared to be unconscious. 

Thor knelt on the floor with Jane half in his lap. His arms were around her waist and his face was buried in her neck. Sif kicked a rock to alert him of their presence. He turned his head to look at them, and immediately stood.

“Did we miss all the fun?” Natasha said.

Thor beamed. “My apologies. Next time, I'll save some for you.”

“You better, Thunder.”

“Hey, Nat!” Darcy yelled. “You shoulda seen it, I whacked him on the head with this pipe and pretty much saved all of us, you're welcome.”

“Sure, Darcy.”

“I did!”

Thor smiled. “Sif and I will take-”

“Oh, no.” Natasha said. “Human man, human abduction, human problem. We’ll take care of it. If you want, though, you’re welcome to stay for clean up.” 

Thor laughed and Natasha found herself following. Maybe he wasn't half bad, she decided.


	5. Tasha

Natasha tended to avoid being alone with Bruce, in part because he was awkward to be around and in part because he was unpredictable and would sometimes turn into an uncontrollable rage monster. 

Living in a tower with six other people (sometimes more, depending on the week) made it fairly easy to keep from being alone.

Getting abducted and thrown in the same cell by AIM scientists made it very difficult. 

She tried not to focus on the fact that he was watching her or the way he moved slightly every time she stepped. She inspected the room in silence, checking every corner, every bar of the cell door, stepping up on the small toilet to check the window. Hopefully they wouldn’t be there long enough to make use of the toilet. 

“The great Black Widow,” a voice said, “And the powerful Hulk, trapped like flies.” A woman stepped in front of the cage, followed closely by two people in full-body yellow suits.

“Who are you?” Natasha said, jumping down from the toilet. 

“Dr. Anne Coleman.” The woman said, flanked by people in AIM yellow suits. “Forgive me if I don’t shake your hand.”

“Doctor,” Natasha said, stepping back into a corner. “It might be a good time to get big.”

Bruce stood, walking toward the bars. “I agree.”

“Doctor Banner,” Coleman tisked. “I don’t recommend turning right now. Even if you did manage to kill us, you’d kill her, the room would go on lockdown, and you’d spend forever in this cell block with our corpses.”

Her words made Banner shrink down until he was sitting back on the bed staring at Natasha again. 

“What do you want with us?” Natasha asked. “Ransom? Leverage? Because the Avengers will never negotiate with you.”

“Of course they would.” Coleman said. “But that’s not why you’re here. We didn’t want you at all, Widow. My team was supposed to grab Hawkeye.”

Natasha almost smiled. They probably thought he was less of a threat. That might have been true, but they couldn’t have known the hell Clint would give them in her position.

“You’ll do, however.” And oh, how Coleman was going to pay for that. “We only needed Doctor Banner.”

“Why?” 

“Because we need super soldiers.”

“In case you haven’t watched the news in the past ten years,” Bruce said calmly. “My experiments weren’t exactly successful.”

“Captain America is not the kind of soldier we’re looking for. We live in a new era. We need anger, we need fear. We need more Hulks, Doctor Banner.”

Bruce froze for a moment and forced himself to talk. “I’m not going to do that.”

“We’re not giving you a choice.” 

“That experiment had too many uncontrollable variables.” he said, fury and fear rising in his voice, and Natasha thought she saw him turning green at the edges. “It’ll kill your test subject.”

“You’d better hope not.” Coleman turned to face Natasha. “You’ll start by testing it on her.”

Bruce looked at her, his expression dropping to an apology. “I won’t do it.” he said softly. “I won’t do it, you can torture me, you could even find a way to kill me but I won’t-”

“We won’t lay a finger on you. We’re willing to lose people to this, but we’d rather not. It’s the Widow we’ll rip to pieces.” 

“If you kill her, I’ll never-”

“Who said we were going to kill her?” Both sides of the bars went silent. “Grab her.” Coleman said to the people with her.

The doors opened and Natasha tensed. She could withstand anything they did to her, she knew that the Red Room had done worse, but could he?

***

“Come on, Agent Romanov. It’s no fun if you don’t scream.” The woman flicked the knife she had buried in Natasha’s knee, sending a shock of pain up her leg, but Natasha didn’t move. The woman rested her elbows on Natasha’s thigh and sighed. She looked like she was trying to fake a pout. “Fine, then. I’ll just have to find another way to enjoy myself.”

She moved back to the table, which featured a row of needles and various surgical tools, most of which already contained some of Natasha’s blood. The woman picked up a pair of pliers and turned them over in her hands. 

Just then a door opened above them. Dr. Coleman walked in and down the stairs leading to the small pit and the table Natasha was strapped to. “Ms. Langley, that’s all we need from you today.” 

“Awe, come on Doc, it was just gettin’ interesting.” Langley whined.

“I’m sure.” Coleman tapped the knife in Natasha’s knee, just hard enough to be felt. “But for now all we need to do is make her bleed.” Coleman grabbed the knife and pulled and blood came pouring out of the wound. 

Two people in yellow, likely the same as had followed Dr. Coleman before, undid Natasha’s straps and half-carried her back to the cell. They opened the door and threw her in, pushing her to the ground. 

“Tasha!” Bruce yelled, half relieved and half anxious. He knelt down next to her and held his hands just above a gash in her arm as if asking for permission to touch it. “I’m sorry, I-”

“It looks worse than it is.” Natasha said. 

Bruce looked at her knee and arm and raised his eyebrows, but if he thought she was lying he didn't say anything. “I need medical supplies.”

Dr. Coleman paused and looked taken aback by the question. “Excuse me?”

“Bandages, gauze, some steri-strips for the deeper cuts.” Bruce turned his gaze toward her. “Something to clean these with too.” 

A crease formed between Dr. Coleman’s eyes. “And why would we give you those?”

“She's losing a lot of blood, and she’ll keep losing it.” He stood and walked over to the bars of the cell. “She's no use as a test subject if she's dead.” 

Coleman contemplated that for a second before she snapped at one of her guards. They left and Bruce didn't turn away, maintaining eye contact with Coleman. Natasha stared at him but found no hints of green showing through, despite the tension in his jaw and fists. 

The guard returned a second later and handed a white box to Dr. Coleman. She took it and held it through the cell bars. Bruce took it without looking away. “Thank you.” He said curtly before turning. “That'll be all.” 

“We’ll see you in the morning, Doctor Banner, Romanov.” She turned and left in a huff. 

Bruce rushed to Natasha and knelt down. He opened the box and started sorting through its contents. 

“What was that?” Natasha asked.

“You're hurt. You need help.” Bruce said, pulling a bottle of peroxide from the box. 

“Okay, but,” she covered the wound in her knee he had turned to. “I can handle this on my own.”

“I'm sure you can,” he said, “but please let me help.” 

Something about the pleading look in his eyes made her move her hand back and watch as he cleaned, taped, and bandaged her cuts.

***

The next day was the same. And the next. Natasha was taken down to Langley, tortured, and taken back to the cell so Bruce could stitch her up. Natasha dealt with the pain and the blood loss as she always had, but it got tiring and she felt herself slipping by the end of the week. It was less than she would have been able to handle with the Red Room, but she supposed the Avengers had been good to her.

She laid on the bed, having given in to Bruce’s insistence that she needed it more on the first day. Her eyes were closed but she wasn’t asleep, not yet, not until she got control of the screaming pain in her shoulder. A slight movement across the room made her open her eyes and turn to where Bruce was sitting against the wall, knees drawn in and head in his hands. 

“You alright, Doc?” Natasha said softly, not wanting to startle him 

Bruce didn’t look up. “This is my fault.” His voice was eerily calm. 

Natasha moved to sit up and face him. She had known this conversation was coming. “No it’s not.”

“No, Tasha.” He looked up, his eyes red. “I created the Hulk. He is my mistake. And instead of burying him, instead of staying hidden like I should have, I-”

“You became an Avenger.” She said plainly. “Besides, I was the one who dragged you out of India.” 

“I still made the monster, and he’s the reason we’re here, and the reason that you’re hurt-”

“I’m fine, Doc.”

He stopped and looked at her, realization and sadness in his eyes. “Being used to the pain doesn’t mean you have to be okay with it.” 

“Same goes for you.” Natasha said, and Bruce brought his eyebrows together. She shrugged. “We all have guilt.”

“But you,” he paused and took a breath. “You didn’t have a choice in your past.” 

“And you made one mistake. All you can do now is try and make up for it.”

***

The next morning when Dr. Coleman came, Natasha stood to greet her. “Eager to begin, Agent Romanov?”

“Of course-”

Bruce stood as he cut her off. “I’ll do it.”

“What?” Natasha said.

“I’ll- I’ll try to recreate the experiment.” 

Coleman spoke up before Natasha had the chance. “I knew you’d come around, Doctor. Right this way.” She motioned for Bruce to follow her. 

Before he left, Natasha grabbed his arm. “What are you doing?”

“Making it right.”

“This isn’t what I meant.”

***

Natasha always hated waiting, and waiting in the cell while Bruce helped AIM was particularly excruciating. She checked the room over again, not finding any weaknesses not matter how much she looked, but not finding any cameras or microphones either. That didn’t mean no one was listening, but it meant they weren’t listening to closely. Finally she sat against the wall, leaned her head back, and closed her eyes, attempting to clear her thoughts. She stayed that way for hours, slowing her breaths and trying to focus on nothing at all.

Bruce returned eventually. Dr. Coleman followed him and neither of the guards touched him. He held a frown but his eyes seemed bright. She watched him walk in as the cell doors closed behind him.

She waited until the AIM scientists had left the room to speak. “What was that about?”

He shrugged. “I couldn’t just watch them kill you.”

“Yeah, you could have.” She said. “If it meant not helping them.”

“I have a plan.” He said, smiling.

“Okay.” She said warily. She’d seen plenty of “plans” go horribly wrong before they even started. 

“If I get you to a radio, can you get a signal out to the Avengers?”

“Probably.” She said. She definitely could, but she wasn’t sure about following a plan she knew nothing about. 

“Good. I’m going to need you to trust me.”

She wasn’t sure if she did, but she knew she didn’t have much of a choice.

***

“I need Tasha with me today.” Bruce said plainly when Coleman came for them the next day.

“Why?” Coleman asked. 

“Blood samples. I used a lot of my own during the first experiment, so I’m going to need a fresh supply of hers. And she’s worked with me before.” 

Natasha thought the lie was fairly obvious, but Coleman nodded and led them down to the lab. 

It wasn’t much really- just two cluttered tables, a few stools, and a chair someone could be strapped into. The walls looked the same as every other, save for the two doors marked with green exit signs. Even supervillains cared about lab safety, it seemed. Bruce sat on one of the stools and looked into a microscope. “Sit down anywhere.” He gestured toward Natasha vaguely. 

Coleman spoke next, calmly. “I’ll leave you to it then, I have-”

“Other business, yeah.” Bruce said without looking up. “Lock the door on your way out.” 

“I will.” She said curtly. As she left she spoke to two people in yellow on either side of the door. “Call me immediately if he makes any breakthroughs,” she paused and looked back at Natasha, “or if they try anything they shouldn't.” The door shut behind her.

Natasha spoke up after the door shut behind her. “She just leaves?”

“She’s a busy woman.” Bruce said. “Besides, we’ve got these two lovely people here.” He moved away from the microscope to a row of hastily-labeled test tubes. He picked one up, swirled it, and put it back. “They’re not very talkative.”

“I thought you worked better when it was quiet.”

“I got used to working with Stark, I guess.” Bruce grabbed a white box and walked over to Natasha. He pulled up a stool and sat across from her. “Ready for a blood test?”

Natasha paused. She wasn’t afraid of needles, exactly, but Coulson’s warning had followed her everywhere- they’ll take vials of your blood until you run out. 

Bruce was sitting with the box in his lap, waiting for her to say something. She saw understanding in his eyes. She nodded.

“Alright. I just need your arm.” She held it out and he held her wrist gently. He quickly and quietly cleaned the area, grabbed a needle from the box, and before Natasha knew it he was stepping away from her with a red vial. He placed it in a cooler and moved to a large metal box. 

Natasha watched him for a while, pulling out clear boxes and mixing test tubes. She didn’t understand what he was doing, and definitely didn’t like being left in the dark, but he seemed to know what he was doing. She’d just have to wait.

“Tasha.” Bruce said suddenly. “Will you go over to that shelf and look for an XTMR?” 

Right. The radio. 

The guards paid no attention to her as she moved over to the shelf he had gestured at. Scattered across it were a variety of discarded electronics and half-baked projects. Sitting in the middle of the pile was what appeared to be an intact radio transmitter. 

“Amateurs.” Natasha whispered as she smiled and picked it up.

***

They continued like that for five days.

Bruce worked on his experiments, but by the second day Natasha realized he wasn’t changing any of the mixtures, he never took anything out of the boxes, and the most he had done with her blood was watch it diffuse in a test tube. Whatever he was up to, he was stalling for time as long as he could.

Natasha had managed to get the radio to transmit a signal, but didn’t risk setting it up to receive. All she could do was hope that Clint was in range and listening to the right channel.

They didn’t talk much while they worked, mostly because they were constantly watched. It wasn’t tense, like the way they had interacted back at the tower before. Instead, Natasha found herself growing comfortable around him despite her ever-present fear of the Hulk.

Back in the cell, absent of watchful eyes, Bruce started to open up to her, and Natasha found herself following suit. They rarely discussed anything serious, but Bruce would tell her stories about his time curing diseases in third world countries and she would tell him about missions in far off places.

“When I tell people I travelled around Asia for years,” Bruce said one night as they ate grey food off of plastic trays, “they always ask me about the monuments. It wasn’t until I got back that I realized I’d spent eight months living three hours from the Taj Mahal and never bothered to visit.” 

Natasha nodded. “I’ve been to London sixteen times, and it wasn’t until three years ago that Clint made me go on the Eye.” 

“All our travelling, and we’ve never been tourists.”

“That’s not a bad thing.” 

After a minute, Bruce spoke up again. “I’m sorry abou-”

“Stop that.” Natasha said sternly. “Us being here is AIM’s fault, not yours.” 

“I know.” Bruce sighed. They had been through that argument many times before, and he seemed to realize he was losing. “I’m sorry about not telling you what I’m doing. It’s not fun, being left in the dark.” 

Natasha nodded. “We don’t have much choice in the matter. Don’t fail, and we’ll call it even.”

***

As they were working the next day, the door opened suddenly and Dr. Coleman came charging in.

“Doctor Banner.” She said sternly, and he stood up to face her. “You’re ready for human trials, then?”

“No,” Bruce said quickly, “I still need a few days to-”

“My people tell me you’ve been stalling for two days already. You’re done, aren’t you?” 

Bruce looked at Natasha, jaw set. He closed his eyes. “Yes.” 

“Good.” Coleman turned to the guards. “Grab her.”

While their attention was on Natasha, hers was on Bruce. He nodded and smiled a little. She didn’t fight as she was strapped into the chair in the center of the room. 

Bruce started grabbing things, going into the act of a man resigned to his fate. “Let me just-”

“No, Doctor Banner, I’m afraid you’re done enough.” She pushed him aside. “Stand over there and walk me through the procedure.” 

Bruce bit his bottom lip but stepped aside. “You’ll need to mix the P2 and D4 test tubes.”

Coleman grabbed the tubes in question and mixed them in a beaker. Her guards left Natasha to stand by her and watch. Bruce started moving slowly toward Natasha. 

“In the cooler, there’s a red box marked D3, you’ll need that too.” Bruce got behind Natasha and started undoing the strap on her arm. Once it was free, she started undoing the others. He whispered to her, “Be ready to run.” 

One of the guards had grabbed the tube and brought it to Coleman. Bruce continued. “You’ll need to pour the mixture into the-” Coleman didn’t wait for him to finish before pouring in the contents of the tube.

Bruce ducked behind the chair, and Natasha moved to do the same as an explosion shook the room. Natasha didn’t bother to take in the rest of the damage before she ran for the exit, Bruce following close behind her.

The door led to a hallway, and Natasha stopped. Bruce ran past her and to the right, so she followed. A few turns and twists later, Bruce stopped at a door. Natasha pushed it open, and then they were outside in a clear field. Above them, Natasha heard the sounds of an airplane and looked for somewhere to hide. 

Just as she was about to pull Bruce under the cover of a tree, the plane dropped in front of them and Natasha breathed a sigh of relief. It was the Avenger’s quinjet. 

The ramp lowered and there was Captain America, in full uniform, shouting over the wind. “Figured that was you!” He helped Natasha and Bruce climb in the still-moving plane. 

“Clint got your distress beacon a few days ago.” Steve said as the doors shut. “There was a lot of interference, so we were waiting for a sign. Tony and Clint were about to start tearing apart the Kazakh countryside, and I was about to let them.” 

“You built a bomb.” Natasha said, slumping down into one of the chairs. Bruce sat next to her, and she looked over at him. “You built a bomb, right under their noses.”

“Yeah. I guess I did.” 

Natasha smiled and shook her head. “Nice going, Doc.”

***

A few days later, Natasha found Bruce sitting on a couch in the main room of the tower. She sat across from him and curled around the mug of tea he offered. “What was your plan?”

“Hmm?”

“With the bomb. If you would have set it off.”

“Nothing’s killed me yet.” He shrugged.

Natasha looked at him with a look bordering on disbelief. “Your guilt is going to, one day.”

He looked at her. “So’s yours.” 

Instead of answering, she took a drink from the mug and picked up a half finished crossword from the table.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have this hc that Nat and Bruce do crossword puzzles together. I have no idea where it came from but here it is I guess.


	6. Nat

She landed softly on the raised walkway and unclipped the harness. Clint pulled the rope back up to the roof and returned to his perched position, watching the warehouse floor below.

“Hey, Nat.” Clint said over the comms.

“What?” She whispered. There hadn’t been anyone on in the building before she went in, but if Clint had-

“Why does Lenin hate Earl Grey tea?”

Natasha closed her eyes and sighed. “Why?”

“Because all proper tea is theft.” He paused. “Get it, property, proper-tea?”

“Yeah, I-” She took a deep breath, one hand on the door to the office. “I hate you.”

“I know you’re smiling.”

“I’m not.” She lied.

“I can see you.”

She opened the door and charged in.

***

Natasha slumped against the wall. Her head hurt. The bullet wound in her side was bleeding, but not enough to worry her.

Clint paced the walls, checked every bar and crack, but found nothing. “Looks like we’re stuck.” 

She hummed in agreement. She leaned her head back and closed her eyes. 

“Nat. Psst. Nat.” Clint said. She didn’t remember falling asleep, but Clint was shaking her awake anyway. “I think I have a plan.”

“You have a plan.” She said, with less confidence than he would have liked. He didn’t say anything about it. 

“Yeah. It’s probably going to work.”

“So it’s half-assed and all hinges on educated guesses?”

“You know me so well.” He reached out a hand. “Come on.”

She looked at him and raised an eyebrow. “Is it dangerous?”

“Very.”

“Stupid?”

“Probably.”

“Is it going to get us killed?”

“Most definitely.”

She sighed and let him pull her to her feet. She needed the help more than she wanted to admit. “Let’s do it.”

***

It didn’t take long for SHIELD agents to realize who she was. Some of them had encountered her before. Some had lost targets, charges, or partners to her. All of them had heard of her.

Up until Clint brought her in, Agent Sarkozi had been head of a task force assigned to track her down. Sarkozi had been adamant about her desire to kill the Black Widow.

Natasha wasn’t sure Sarkozi had changed her mind. 

Sarkozi confronted Natasha on the range. 

“The Black Widow.” 

Natasha nodded but didn’t turn toward her. “Agent.”

“You recognize that gun?” Sarkozi pointed at the weapon Natasha was holding. She didn't respond. “Should feel familiar. That's the same model you used to kill half my team a year back.”

Natasha paused. “Sorry.”

“Save it for someone who believes you.” Natasha raised the gun to the target and sucked in a breath as Sarkozi stepped closer. “I know Barton thinks he can save you like SHIELD saved him, but you’re too far gone. Barton never killed anyone. You? You made it your livelihood. Can’t wash out that much blood.”

Natasha shot six rounds in quick succession, each one hitting the human-shaped target in the head. 

“See?” Sarkozi said. “You’re built for killing.”

“You done?” Natasha set down the gun and turned. “I have somewhere to be.”

“Hope it’s far away from here.” 

Natasha walked out of the range with as much control as she could. She needed to breathe, but it felt like there wasn’t enough air. She had made it this far, but-

She found Clint in the cafeteria. 

“Hey, Nat. Where do Russians get their milk?” She sat down across the table from him. “From a Mos _cow_.” 

Natasha laughed and shook her head. She stopped suddenly when she noticed Clint staring at her. 

“What’s got you so upset?”

“Nothing.” She looked down.

“C’mon, Nat, you never laugh at my jokes, it’s our thing.” He reached a hand across the table, not quite touching her. “What’s up?”

“I told you, I’m,” He raised his eyebrows, “Fine.”

“Nope.”

She sighed. “I met Sarkozi.”

“She’s still got it out for you?” 

“And I don’t blame her.” Clint opened his mouth to protest, but Natasha stopped him. “I’m not a good person, Clint. There is so much blood on my hands. You, and SHIELD, you’re trying to give me a second chance but I don’t-” She looked up at him. “I don’t deserve it.”

“So earn it.” Clint said simply. “You made mistakes, you caused destruction. Some people will never forgive you, because that blood is never going to go away. The people you killed aren’t coming back. All you can do now is try to make up for it.”

“And if I can’t?”

“You’ve gotten this far. You’re trying, and that means something. Besides, you’re wonderful, and if Sarkozi can’t see that, it’s her loss.”

***

The door to the small meeting room closed with a soft click. Natasha turned to Clint. Already, he had loosened his tie and was taking off his suit jacket. “So, diplomacy didn’t work.”

“Yep.” He opened his suitcase, revealing his folded bow and quiver. “Time for some…” He unfolded his bow with a snap of his wrist, “Aggressive negotiations.” He turned to her, smiling and holding up an arrow.

“What?”

“You know, negotiations, with a lightsaber.”

“That’s an arrow, Clint.”

He set down the arrow with a loud clank. “Are you serious?” She didn’t respond. “Star Wars?”

“I know about Star Wars.”

“But have you seen it?”

“No.” 

He threw up his arms. “I have to fix this.” 

“We should finish the mission first.”

“This is my mission, Nat. The universe brought us together so I could fix this injustice.” 

“We’re here to prevent an injustice against the people of Somalia.”

“Yeah, evil corporation taking advantage of the poor-”

“And mutating them.”

“-and I’m excited to stop that, but the instant we are done-”

“We’ll watch Star Wars.”

“Yes.”

“After we finish here.”

“Yes.”

***

Alarms blared overhead. Lights flashed. Agents ran to their designated stations in response to attack. It wasn’t a very important SHIELD outpost, but it was enough to draw attention, and of course the attention had been drawn during the week Clint and Natasha were staying there. They had been ordered to gear up and join the primary defense just behind the doors. Natasha quickly armed herself, but Clint was having trouble finding a bow he was willing to use, his own having been broken on the mission.

Finally Clint turned to her, and she shoved a quiver at him. He smirked in a way she was familiar with hating.

“What did the archer say to the beautiful maiden?” He took the arrows and slung them around his back. “You make me quiver.”

She turned and left him in the armory.

***

Clint reached for the popcorn as the credits rolled. “What did you think?”

“The Jedi order are the real villains.” Natasha held the bowl out of his reach.

Clint stopped fighting for the bowl and sat back. “What?”

“They told Anakin that emotions were to be feared instead of training him to deal with them.”

“They thought they were right.”

“They assumed that they were always right.” Natasha set the bowl in his lap. “And the republic was a classic example of the failure of a democracy which does not fear authoritarianism.” 

Clint looked into the bowl of popcorn, eyes wide. “Padme deserved better.”

“Also, Padme deserved better.”

***

Natasha woke up to a loud banging on her door. She slipped out of bed quickly and grabbed her gun off the table. She looked through the peephole in the door and sighed before pulling it open.

“Clint.” She said. His hand was still raised to knock and he met her with a beaming smile. 

“Hey Nat!” He held a large red gift bag and a cup of coffee in one hand. “I brought you a gift.” She reached for the coffee and he moved it to his other hand. “Not this. This is mine.”

“First cup?”

“Third.” He took another sip. “I think.”

“You’re a disaster.” 

He shrugged. “Maybe. But I’m up early today. And it was my idea.”

“It’s a miracle.”

“I set 27 alarms.”

“That’s what it took?”

“Hell no.” He set the bag on her empty desk. “Caleb from the room next door came in and threatened to kill me if I didn’t wake up.”

“I’ll be sure to thank him.”

“He likes chamomile.”

“Really?” Natasha walked over to the desk but didn’t touch the bag.

“No. But I think he should.” He sat on her bed and took another swig of the coffee. “C’mon, open it.” 

She opened the bag carefully. Inside was a backpack. “It’s-”

Clint smiled. “Your official first-mission-without-me survival kit.” 

She pulled it out. “I was going to mention the color.”

“Picked it myself. Purple, so I can find you.” Calling it purple was an insult to the color’s finer shades, Natasha thought. It was horrendously bright. “There’s some good stuff in there, look.”

Natasha doubted it, but she let him show her it’s contents anyway, offering an explanation for each. Pens, notebooks, junk food, a few books he had been trying to get her to read (Star Wars fanfiction, mostly, which he insisted on calling ‘the Extended Universe’). He pulled out a pad of paper labeled Mad Libs: SHIELD Edition. “You’re going out with Cade, who’s fun, but quiet. You’ll want this.” 

“Clint?” She said, softly.

“Yeah?”

“Thank you.” 

He beamed. “Sure thing, Nat.”

***

“You got eyes on Roper?” Natasha asked, sitting at a cafe table in New Orleans. She looked across the street to where Clint was walking.

“She’s behind me. Blue coat.”

Natasha looked back in time to watch the woman in the blue coat open the door to a store and walk inside. “Just went inside-”

“The boutique, I saw. Can you see in?”

“No, but there’s only one other exit, a service door around the back. I’ve got access to the camera feed.”

“Did you know she’d go in there?”

“I did the same for every building here.”

“Seriously?”

“I cased the area. It’s called spywork.”

“It’s impressive. No one at SHIELD does that much.”

“That’s a lie and you know it.” Clint walked into a small corner store. “Where are you going?”

“Give me a minute, okay? This just turned into a full blown stakeout.” 

She watched the door to the boutique and drank her tea. A few minutes later, Clint walked out of the corner store and made his way to the cafe, stopping in front of her table. 

“This seat taken?” He asked, smiling. Natasha shook her head. He slumped into the seat across from her and held up a red box of cards with ‘UNO’ written across the front. “Wanna play?” 

She set her tea to the side and sat up in her chair. “I don’t see why not.”

He started dealing, eyes bright. He smiled as he said, “I’m Barney.”

“Hello Barney.” She said. He chucked at her tone, or perhaps some joke she would ask him about later. She just smiled. “I’m Nat.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I swear to you guys im gonna finish this


End file.
